Chapter Eight #2
“But they’re not getting in,” Luca continued, zooming one display and shrinking another. “Firewalls are holding and the physical perimeter remains untouched. They’re probing, not pushing.”
Tane turned his head slightly, catching Victor in his peripheral vision. The man was utterly still, eyes tracking the data streams with cold precision.
Of course they were probing.
The upgrades they’d put in place after the last bastards who stormed their home hadn’t been cosmetic.
Redundant systems nested inside each other like bone beneath muscle.
False positives layered over kill-zones.
AI loops designed to lie convincingly—to look sloppy, slow, exploitable.
From the outside, Black Tide’s compound looked tempting.
From the inside, it was a coffin waiting to close.
“Any attempt to draw us out?” Kael asked.
Niko leaned over a secondary console. “Yeah. They’re lighting up just outside sensor range. Flash-and-fade. Trying to tickle pursuit protocols.”
They want Victor, Tane thought, heat flaring low and dangerous in his gut.
Victor’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping once—but he didn’t move. Didn’t reach. Didn’t offer.
Neither did Tane.
“We stay,” Kael said flatly, planting both hands on the table. “We wanted to test our compound’s security, now’s as good a time to do it than any.”
No one argued.
Minutes stretched, elastic and tense. Systems hummed. Fans kicked up as processors worked harder, the compound breathing around them. Outside, signatures flickered and vanished—pressure without commitment. Whatever play the Directorate had planned, it stalled against Black Tide’s refusal to dance.
Then a new alert chimed.
Different tone. Sharper.
Private.
“Secure line requesting contact,” Luca said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Audio only. No video. No origin trace.”
The room shifted. Shoulders squared. Attention snapped tight.
Kael straightened. “Patch it through, I’ll handle it.”
Tane shook his head. “No.”
The word landed heavy.
Kael turned, one eyebrow lifting a fraction. “You want this?”
“Yes.”
Not because Tane wanted the conversation.
Because they did—and he refused to let them frame it.
“Open the line,” Tane said.
A breath of static slid through the speakers, soft and intimate, like someone leaning too close.
Then a voice—cultured, measured, entirely unhurried. “Black Tide. Thank you for taking the call.”
Tane smiled without warmth, rocking back on his heels. “You’re welcome. You rang, so I am guessing you have something you want to say.”
“We’re interested in a discussion,” the voice continued. “About one of our assets currently under your—protection.”
Victor’s gaze snapped to Tane.
Tane didn’t look away from the console. “He ain’t one of your anythings, and I will allow you one time, and this one time only, to say his name in my presence without fear of having your tongue removed through your throat.”
A pause. Fractional. Telling. Tane wanted to keep the caller on edge, and it was also nice to throw a little dominant tantrum and let all of them who were listening know that he was possessive as fuck.
“Victor Dane.”
Tane angled slightly, enough for Victor to catch his eye. “Looks like they called to speak to you?”
Victor stepped in close to the mic. “Lucky for them I’m in a good mood, so will speak with them.”
Good. Victor wasn’t going to play nice either. He was stating his intent, and who he sided with.
Let them hear it. Let them understand exactly where he stood.
“We’re prepared to offer Black Tide compensation,” the voice said smoothly. “Substantial. Compensation. Both for Victor and for the return of the vehicle you took from us, complete with cargo, and have in your possession.”
Tane huffed a quiet laugh. “Money? That’s your opener?”
“We have access to other incentives,” the voice replied. “Autonomy. Resources. A chance to return to work that matters under the Directorate.”
“So,” Tane said slowly, letting his tone soften just enough to sell it, leaning forward as if intrigued. “You’re saying there’s a deal on the table.”
The pause this time was longer. Greed testing the line.
“Yes.”
Victor went still.
For half a second, confusion crossed his face—then it burned off, replaced by something bright and sharp.
He grinned.
Tane almost laughed aloud.
Around them, Black Tide went very, very quiet. Not frozen—focused. Kael’s eyes never left Tane. Neither did Victor’s.
Tane tilted his head. “Tell me something. You really think I’d sell out one of my mine?”
Silence.
Then his voice shifted—lazy, sharp-edged, unmistakably Hawaiian in its bite. “You must be out of your damn mind, haole.”
The line crackled, irritation bleeding through the polish. “Believe me when I tell you,” the voice said coolly, “that we can make this very unpleasant for you.”
Tane’s fist tightened on the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, the shark tattoo standing out.
He leaned closer to the mic, voice calm, almost conversational.
“You ever swim out past the reef?” he asked.
“Looks peaceful out there. Deep blue water. No ripples. But that’s just where the sharks wait.
You don’t see them until it’s already too late, and right now, you are in deep and there is already blood in the water. ”
There was another pause before the voice came again. “So, it is a war you are after.”
Kael stepped forward, teeth bared in something like a smile. “Bring it.”
He slammed a finger on a button on the table and the line went dead.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Then Tane turned and walked.
Out the glass doors to the balcony that ran the length of the command center. Out into the open air, where heat and salt hit his lungs. Rage coiled tight in his chest—controlled, leashed, but violent in its restraint.
He was beyond pissed at the situation.
At the bullseye he’d just confirmed on the back of the man he loved. Because, yes, he fucking loved Victor.
Footsteps stepped out behind him, and he didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
“Hey,” Victor said quietly.
Tane stopped, shoulders rising and falling once before he turned to face him. “They want you,” he said low. “And I just told them exactly where you stand.”
Victor stepped closer, close enough that Tane could feel him there without looking. “They already knew.”
Tane exhaled hard, anger bleeding off into clarity.
Victor touched his arm—solid, certain.
Tane nodded once.
When they entered back into the command center, Kael was already issuing orders, voice cutting clean. “No more reacting. We go on offense.”
Every voice answered, sharp and unified.
“Agreed.”